My Perfect, Promiscuous Son
by Kandakicksass
Summary: Inspired by "My Promiscuous Daughter" by CKY. Fugaku walks in on something he shouldn't have, and he doesn't know how to react when that's his perfect son being violated right in front of him. Not rape- perfectly consensual. Explicit slash. Madara/Itachi


**So, since I haven't been working on anything but Haunting Eternity, I decided this was in order. It's a giftfic (a surprise!) for Chi Takashi, a wonderful friend who is still expecting another giftfic which I've taken four months to write. I'm sorry, and I hope this makes up for it! Your original giftfic should be out shortly, and I hate that it's taken so long. This is pretty much a PWP—or stemmed from one, so it's not to long, and very explicit. Please enjoy!**

Fugaku couldn't sleep. This wasn't a regular occurrence, however—usually, Uchiha Fugaku slept like the dead, so whatever was keeping him up had to be fairly special. He was almost glad Mikoto was out of town, acting as substitute representative for Konohagakure in Suna, a city that lied a day's car ride away, and that his youngest son was knocked out with cold medicine due to a nasty fever. Both his wife and nine year old were horrible to deal with when they'd had no sleep.

His brother Madara was staying the night as well, and last Fugaku had checked, he'd been in the living room watching a movie with his eldest son, Itachi.

Uchiha Itachi was the perfect son—good looking, brilliant, obedient, and tough enough to deal with being the head of the family one day. He did what he was told without doing anything crazy. He was prim, proper, and perfect, everything an Uchiha son should be.

Fugaku growled, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, standing up. Whatever that sound was, he was going to find it, and stop it. He walked downstairs, too tired to do the booming power walk thing he normally did. As he got closer, he was able to decipher the sounds he heard—moaning, and soft cries of pleasure.

Fugaku groaned. Madara was younger than him by seven years, and obviously much stupider, especially if he was doing what Fugaku thought he was doing. He hoped Itachi had gone to bed, because if Madara was trying to get his nephew into porno, then Fugaku was going to kill him.

"Oh, _god_," Fugaku heard. It was drawn out—one of the sexiest things he'd ever heard even though it was also one of the sickest. He rounded the corner before his eyes bulged and he darted back behind the wall, peeking into the living room he'd been about to walk into, his eyes locking on the wall he had a hand on to steady himself as he spied in horror.

Fugaku was sure he was imagining things—because surely he wasn't seeing what he was pretty sure he was seeing. For instance, that surely wasn't Madara's long black hair plastered to his wall like paint, no, surely not. Nor was it his brother's thick, reddened cock fucking his eldest son's pink mouth. No, surely not.

Yet, he knew it was, and from the sounds his _perfect _Itachi was making, he was enjoying it. A lot. Madara had himself braced against the wall, one large, strong hand in Itachi's pretty raven locks. He was naked from the waist up, but he was obviously smart enough to realize that getting completely nude would be stupid, because he still had his well-fitting jeans (which he'd always worn much better than his brother, which explained why he'd been able to seduce said brother's oldest son) on, his cock pulled out and into Itachi's mouth. And what a cock it was. Madara always _had _been much better endowed than his older brother, and it positively sickened Fugaku that it was being used in such a way.

Fugaku tore his eyes away from his much more attractive brother to his son. Itachi obviously cared less about being caught because he was entirely bare, his toned body completely visible. Fugaku, poor man, had a very clear view of Itachi's face as the boy slid his mouth off of his uncle's erection long enough to kiss the domed head before taking him in again. He was propping himself up on one hand, the other wrapped firmly around the base of Madara's hardness.

A disgusted shiver went down Fugaku's spine when Itachi released a loud moan around Madara's cock, the hand propping him up moving to clutch his boyhood desperately, the muscles in his back rippling as he fought his release.

"Yes, my little Itachi," Madara groaned, throwing his head back. "Yes… mm, my sweet boy, you're so good at this, my gorgeous Itachi. Mm, how do you like the taste of that, sweet boy?"

"I… oh, Uncle Madara," he whimpered, his perverse need clear in his voice. "Oh, god, s'been too long…" He wrapped his lips around the flushed need in front of him with renewed vigor.

Madara nodded, his breath coming quicker and Fugaku tried to move, to stop them, but he was frozen. "Yes, you like this, don't you, sweet boy?" Fugaku really didn't want to know the answer, but Itachi nodded eagerly anyway. "You like sucking me off whenever I visit, huh? You like it when I fuck you so hard you can't sit the next day?" Itachi responded to both with an affirmative. "How long has it been since I first fucked your pretty mouth?"

"I was—oh!—I was eight!"

"My little whore, my sweet boy," he said fondly. Fugaku felt sick. How had he missed this? His brother had been messing around with his boy for seven years, and he was just now finding out? The look Madara gave his son almost made him puke. He'd never even worn such a lusty expression when having sex with his own wife! He watched, horrified, as Madara jerked his hips forward, and Fugaku was shocked his son didn't choke. No, Itachi took him expertly, hollowing his cheeks, drawing a groan out of his uncle.

"I'm coming, sweet boy!" Madara gasped. Itachi nodded eagerly, sucking just a tad harder. "God, you perfect little thing!"

Fugaku watched silently as Madara came, shooting his load into his son's already defiled mouth. He waited for Itachi to gag it up, to spit it out, but when he saw his very slight Adam's apple bob and the boy looked up at the elder Uchiha with a proud, aroused grin, he knew he'd swallowed it all. "Yum," was all he said, but to Fugaku, it was quite enough.

"Yes, you liked that, didn't you?" Itachi nodded, still stroking Madara's already re-hardening length. "How much do you want, gorgeous? Remember, your father is upstairs. I don't think he'll take it too well, finding out his son can barely live without my cock up his ass."

"Whose fault is that, huh?" Itachi giggled uncharacteristically.

"I'll admit, I'm guilty, but not entirely. It wasn't me who came three times his first night, and it definitely wasn't me wiggling my ass like a pro," he chuckled and Itachi's face turned red. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"I was not that lewd!" he huffed, but Madara just raised an eyebrow. "Was I?"

"You were," Madara confirmed and Fugaku found himself thinking about how to kill his brother without being caught. "You immediately figured out what I was doing, and after a minute of very pointless resistance, you gave it up willingly."

"How does that make me a pervert? That makes you the dirty one," he argued hotly and Madara laughed.

"You're lewd because the minute you gave in, you were moaning like a common slut." He sounded amused. "I taught you how to prepare yourself that night, the basics of everything I knew, and you picked it up remarkably quickly… my sweet boy." His lips curled upward in a smirk.

Itachi blushed just a bit darker, knowing what Madara was asking him—no, telling him to do. "Really, Uncle?"

"You know, it amuses me when you call me that. Reminds me how much you _get off _on how taboo this is," Madara chuckled, his cock fully hardening as he spoke. The combination of the words and the sight right in front of his face drew a moan from the back of his son's throat. "Do it, sweet boy. You never gave me a boundary for tonight, so I'm going to take you, and you have to be ready for me, right? God knows how I love the shows you put on."

Itachi's blush engulfed the entirety of his pale, doll-like face as he trembled—in anticipation, Fugaku realized in horror—as he positioned himself on his hands and knees. The position he was in gave both his uncle and his father a perfect view of his twitching pink entrance, but Fugaku chose to look at his son's face instead. Itachi was still blushing prettily, biting his lower lip.

His hand shook as it trailed to the tight whirl, tracing the rim lightly. Madara smiled appreciatively, encouraging Itachi to go on. With a visible shudder, Itachi slipped one slender finger lubricated with his uncle's precum into his body, releasing a deep breath as he did so. Madara's eyes were predatorily, raking his nephew's body.

Fugaku couldn't seem to move—he certainly would if he could but something told him it would end far worse if he interrupted now. With another shuddering breath, Itachi slid that one finger out, pushing it in again with a second finger. There was a wet popping sound accompanied by a very weak moan. It was almost fascinating, watching the clearly promiscuous boy finger-fuck himself. The tight hole sucked his finger in eagerly, making Fugaku think he'd done this often. He had a bad feeling there was more to Itachi's shower sessions than he'd realized.

"Mm, Uncle Madara," he moaned, resting his entire weight on his knees when he'd brought his other hand to cover his open mouth, trying to stifle his noises.

"Just how hard does doing that in front of me make you?" he asked curiously even with his voice dripping with lust. Unwillingly, Fugaku's eyes trailed to his son's own cock, which was dripping on the carpet and violently flushed.

"Uncle Madara!" he gasped, barely able to get the words out. "I—" Instead of words only a loud moan came.

"Shh, kid, you'll get your dad's attention!" Madara snickered when Itachi couldn't keep his moans in. "I wonder what he'd say, knowing you love cock—my cock. What do you think he'd say if he found out what a sick boy you are, Itachi? After all, who else can do this to you besides me? It's only me that makes you so dripping wet, isn't it?" His voice was a low purr.

Itachi choked down a moan. "Nng, no one! No one but you!" Madara obviously liked that answer and he knelt down next to his nephew, pushing a finger of his own inside Itachi's passage next to the teen's two.

"Do you think you're ready for me yet, sweet boy?" Madara asked, pumping his fingers in time with Itachi, who nodded desperately, pulling his fingers out with another wet pop. Fugaku covered his mouth in terror when his brother smirked in satisfaction, positioning himself behind Itachi's ass. He teasingly rubbed the head of his erection against Itachi's impatient entrance, who let out a high keening sound from the back of his throat.

"Uncle!" he panted, looking over his shoulder at the smug man. "P-please just fuck me!" he was practically begging for the man to begin using his body in any way he wished. With a satisfied smile, he nodded, pushing in just the slightest bit. Fugaku was pretty sure his dinner was going to make a second appearance as he watched his son's pliant body suck in just the head of Madara's cock, the blunt dome disappearing behind a ring of moist pink muscle.

It was just at that moment when Madara shook his hair over his shoulder, looking back with a triumphant, sexy grin. Madara had _known_! The entire time he'd known he would be fucking his nephew right in front of his father. 'How's that taste, big brother?' he mouthed with a shit-eating grin. 'I've been fucking _your son _for years and you're only now clueing in. Look, brother. Watch me fuck your slutty, gorgeous little Itachi.'

With that, he slammed all the way in, drawing a quiet scream from the teenager, who arched against his uncle's body. "What, did that feel good, sweet boy?" His eyes were still trained on his sickened brother.

"Y-you got my prostate," Itachi was able to force out. "First try."

"I've told you before, my pretty toy, I know everything about you. I don't even have to try." He put his hands on Itachi's hips, angling his nephew's body to gain better leverage. Itachi's knees weren't holding him up anymore; Madara was. He had given up complete control of his body with the exception of his arms, which kept his face from hitting the carpet. Madara pulled out and that apparently felt good, because Itachi let out another whimper, his knees giving out further. Madara pulled his slim body into his arms and Itachi bent his arm back, fisting Madara's dark hair.

"Gorgeous Itachi," the man murmured into his son's ear. "You want me to fuck you?" Itachi nodded, keening again. "Show me how much, sweet boy." Fugaku knew exactly what Madara was doing—he was going to make Itachi show him just what his brother had spent seven years turning his perfect Itachi into.

Trembling still, Itachi rose, Madara's cock slipping from his body with a loud squelch. It positively horrified him, seeing how well his son's body accepted Madara's erection; it was proof of just how long his horrible brother had been training his Itachi to be his little slut. Confidently, with his own length stiff and heavy with arousal, Itachi turned around and straddled his uncle's body, his hands on the wall as he lowered himself onto Madara's hardness with practiced ease, letting out a long hiss of satisfaction as his pink hole swallowed Madara's throbbing cock.

"Ooh," he groaned, his ass pressed against Madara's thighs. "God, Uncle Madara, you're so—nnh!—huge!" Madara smirked and his brother seethed in anger. This man, this bastard Madara, was the reason his son was moaning like a wanton whore, rocking his body in his own relative's lap. "I can feel you—_so deep_!"

Madara laughed, thrusting upward even more. "Mm… you like it when I fuck you in the ass, don't you? You like being my bitch. I can tell, you little whore."

Itachi's head was thrown back and he brought one of the hands bracing himself on the wall down to wrap around his erection, precum dripping from the swollen head. "You know, I'm surprised you've been able to hold on for so long, gorgeous. Normally, you would have already come at least three times by now." His voice was casual, but Fugaku could tell he was rubbing Fugaku's nose in it.

"It hasn't exactly been easy," Itachi breathed. "But I figured we haven't seen each other in two months, so I wanted this to be good to make up for it."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Madara chuckled. "This has been better than good." He leaned forward, kissing his pale neck, drawing another moan from Itachi. "Matter of fact, I could do this all day."

Itachi gave him a breathy laugh. "Yes, my father would appreciate that."

Madara realized that in the position they were in, Itachi could easily look up and see his father standing there in angry shock, and turned them around so Fugaku was facing Madara's face, which hadn't lost it's smug smile.

"Hey, beautiful, what would you tell your father if he ever happened to catch us?" he asked conversationally, thrusting up into the body he had trained to need him. "Would you tell him you need me so much that when I've been gone for a long time, you fuck yourself because you need release badly enough that you can't wait?"

From the surprised groan Madara let out, and the shaky moan Itachi gave, his words had aroused his body into tightening around him. With a low growl from the back of his throat, Madara lost control of his need, pushing Itachi onto his back with a sharp gasp of Surprise, ramming into him. Fugaku watched as his son was fucked violently, crying out loudly and continuously. Itachi's long, slender legs wrapped around his uncle's waist as he continued to mewl in need.

Madara pulled them up again, lifting Itachi in his lap before slamming him back down harshly. With a high-pitched, raspy scream, Itachi came with curled toes, followed shortly by a low cry from his uncle as he was milked for all he was worth. Panting, Madara fell onto his back, Itachi draped over him. When they caught their breath, Itachi leaned up with an amused smile and kissed his uncle deeply, their lips molding together in familiarity, their body still connected down below. Of everything Fugaku had seen that night, that passionate, intimate kiss was the part he was most desperate to forget, that proof that it was more than lust that inspired them to do what they did.

"I love you," Itachi murmured against his lips, and Madara smiled.

"I love you, too."

Despite the show he'd just been given, Fugaku could tell he'd been serious when he'd said that, and now as he slunk away, he felt even sicker than before.

(Insert astricts here—FF GIMME MEH ASTRICTS BACK!)

The next morning, when Fugaku went downstairs with a pounding headache, Sasuke was in the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal, having woken nearly an hour before, and the two he was dreading facing were sitting on the couch in the living room. He noticed the carpet had been cleaned up, and that Itachi was in a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, a cup of orange juice in his hand. It didn't surprise him—he normally found Madara and Itachi on the very _soft _couch when Madara came over, and now he knew why. Of course the teen wouldn't want to sit on a hard wooden chair.

"Good morning, Father," Itachi greeted him as normal, a smile on his face. "Did you sleep well?"

Madara's smirk was haunting and Fugaku found that he was dreading confronting either one of them even more than seeing them. "No, actually. I… had a bad dream." Hating himself, he made the most cowardly of decisions—he decided to try and ignore it, and let the two carry on. He had no idea how to solve the issue—Madara had won. If it were rape, or even barely nonconsensual, he would be able to step in and say no. But Madara _had _won—Itachi was his, wholly and completely. Itachi would fight for him if he was forced to. He needed Madara now, mentally and physically.

"I'm sorry," Itachi said automatically. "I do hate bad dreams." He said this with an innocent smile, but Fugaku wasn't fooled. The boy wasn't innocent by any means. Apparently, he hadn't been since he was eight.

"Well, as fascinating as this is, I'm afraid I should be going. I have to be to work by lunch, and I still have a two hour drive back home," Madara announced. "So I'll visit again same time next month?" His voice held a threat in it that translated as _you say no and you won't like what I do_. He noticed for the first time that his cross-legged son and his brother were sitting much closer together than necessary, and he realized that they'd been doing it for a very long time.

"Of course," Fugaku said automatically. "I'm going to go get breakfast, so I'll talk to you later."

"Later," Madara said, triumph in his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. Fugaku walked into the kitchen, but peeked into the living room just in time to see Madara lean down, capturing Itachi's lips in another raw, passionate kiss.

Fugaku covered his mouth, closing his eyes and focusing on not being sick. He heard the door shut loud and clear, knowing that in a very short month—or maybe sooner than that, who knew—the man would be back again, and Fugaku would wearing ear plugs, pretending for his own sanity that whatever was going on in the living room downstairs, or the bathroom, or his son's room was only his imagination.

Fugaku rushed past his youngest son, who seemed to know what was going to happen and made a face, and emptied his stomach into the sink.

**I have no idea where this came from. I've no clue—wait, I lie. This came from the song "My Promiscuous Daughter" by CKY, which my best friend XxSasuxX showed me. Look it up, and you'll get it. Anyway, I hope you like it, Chi-chan! Hopefully, your giftfic will be up soon-ish. e_e I'm sorry.**

**Kandakicksass**


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